


new age

by pvwork



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angela Lives, Bullying, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, minor gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 07:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pvwork/pseuds/pvwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angela Hansen doesn't have to be the best soldier when all she has to be is the best pilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	new age

Something is going on. 

Actually, something is always going on in a Shatterdome and in that hazy moment of existence between the waking world and the dream world Chuck can't quite remember if he's in Sydney or in Lima. 

The walls are all the same kind of grayish brown in the darkness, yellow light streaking in from under the door the only light Chuck can see by. Always the same lights. 

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Cool hands touch his forehead and smooth over his stubbly hair, gently sliding over a shiny new scar on the left side of his scalp where the helmet of his drivesuit had caved in during the last drop after he took a hard hit in the motion harness. His first kill. Maybe today he'll get a chance to stencil another marker onto Stiker's armor.

"Mum?" 

"Time to get up. We're going to be teaming up with Nova Hyperion today, how's that sound?" 

"Deadly," Chuck says blurrily, smiling a little because his mum still talks like the teacher she is, upbeat even in the wee hours of the morning, making commands like she's asking questions. 

He rolls out of bed and gropes for his t-shirt, grey Henleys for everyone, and his pants. Stomping into his boots and pulling at the laces absently, he looks around for his mum, who reappears in the room with a slice of toast slathered in strawberry preserve. 

"Are you ready?" 

"Yeah, yeah. Rarin' to go. Alive and kicking." 

Angela Hansen snorts, reaches out and tucks his four dog tags into his shirt, rubbing his head fondly and laughing when he barks. When Chuck was a boy, he said he would grow up to be a big, scary bulldog and scare away all the kaiju with his bite (with the way you eat, people will hardly believe I set out to raise a boy child at all!). 

He shoves the piece of toast into his mouth and starts to walk out before taking a short detour to his mother's bedside. His fingertips touch the rough, raised edges of a picture frame. It's dark enough he can't see the photo suspended in it, but he's had every line and shade of color memorized since he was eleven and his mum settled both her hands over his shoulder and said, 'I have to go, be good for your nana.' 

His mum going out to become a soldier alone was not something Chuck could stand, so he became a soldier too.

"Gonna protect her with my life. Don't you worry, old man." 

\--

Mum doesn't make the best soldier, but then again she doesn't really have to when what she has to be is the best _pilot_. Although, and this is very important to remember, that doesn't mean she isn't a very, very good soldier.

She's stubborn, is what she is, but she's usually pretty receptive to corrections and suggestions, and is easy to get along with and that's why she's universally drift compatible. She's only stubborn when it counts.

Chuck's not as forgiving as his mother, a lot of the same stubbornness settles around his bones but he hasn't learned to pick and choose his battles yet and so is forever locked into his own way (because his way is right, damn it), but he's also so much angrier too with a mouth that shoots off like some kind of sawed off machine gun, bullets for words and not enough of a barrel to keep the trajectory from making an absolute mess as it sprays at an intended target. 

"Another fight?" 

"It wasn't really much of a fight. More of a beating. Been whaled."

And Chuck is small for his age range, twelve year olds are usually a bit bigger than this, yeah, small and bruised and battered this particular afternoon as he comes back to the dome, cheek already swelling as his split lip drips red all over his grey shirt while he grins. 

"Why," Mum says, and she looks tired. The kaiju are scheduled for another sighting soon and she's been logging in countless hours in the Kwoon, at the Academy, as PPDC tries to find her a partner to pilot a Jaeger with. There's a Mark II coming out and they want a Hansen piloting it, but manufacturing it has been slow and the parts aren't arriving on time and there's just too many things to prepare for, and not enough hours in the day.

"No reason," Chuck says, the grin falling from his face.

He doesn't want to tell her that he had gone all the way out into the city, made it to the edge of the BeunaKai colony. He just wanted to catch a glimpse of the church is all. But then the kids playing at the edge of the property caught sight of him, his PPDC issued clothes and the glint of his father's dog tags and suddenly they were swarming him, saying that the PPDC was going to fail no matter what, that everyone was going to die. The kaiju were the new messiahs, carrying the message of gods unknown, didn't you know? 

He had said, "Your gods have forsaken you. You're going to die too." And they had come at him with mouths open in screaming horror and fists primed to beat the ever loving shit out of him. 

\--

The most important thing is that he didn't chase the RABIT. Say what you will about Chuck Hansen's first drift with his mum, he did not chase the RABIT and he's horribly proud of that fact. 

The Drift is strong. 

Chuck is standing at the edge of the ocean, sand under his toes and he's looking out into the horizon that is bleeding a beautiful orange-pink-blue. 

Someone is holding his hand and when he looks to the side he sees his dad. 

"What are you doing here?" Chuck says, but his dad doesn't hear him. 

"I'm leaving tomorrow." 

"Okay." 

"But, someday, I'll come back, and then we..." 

And then the memory is rushing by, he's ripped from the sandy beach and the hum of Striker Eureka is loud when the AI announces, "Left hemisphere calibrated."

He dares to glance to the side and he sees his mum smiling, tears streaming down her cheeks from beyond the glass of her visor. She offers him a watery smile and he realizes that the memory wasn't his at all. 

_I'm so proud of you, and I'm sure he would have been too_.

\--

He doesn't remember Herc Hansen all that much. 

There is only one afternoon that stands out in his memories. 

It's blazing hot outside, and the concrete floor of the garage is only a temporary relief as Chuck rolls around on it with only a pair of shorts on. 

"You'll give yourself bruises." 

"Whatever, Da." 

"Come on over and help your old man out."

And Chuck remembers feeling so _useful_ and _wanted_ when he scrambled up off the ground and grabbed a bottle of water to bring over to his dad who had hands covered in engine grease and was crouched next to a motorbike smiling his quiet smile. 

"Now this is..." 

And Chuck spent one oven-like afternoon learning all the parts to the engine of a motorcycle and helping hand over tools and once he even got to tighten a bolt, and when Mum finally called them in for dinner Chuck had even gotten to turn on the ignition to a bike that he personally helped fix. 

Other than that it's the faint feeling of a stubbly kiss on the forehead before he's watching broad shoulders filling out Auscam walk away and the forgettable color of a duffel held in callused hands opening to reveal a little trinket from lands far away.

But Angela keeps his memory alive. He's in the Drift, always.


End file.
